


New Beginnings for Old Friends

by Quipxotic



Series: Family Matters [1]
Category: Midsomer Murders - All Media Types
Genre: Co-workers, Conversations, Dinner, Episode: s09e01 The House in the Woods, Episode: s13e02 The Sword of Guillaume, Ficlet, Friendship, Gen, Post-Episode: s14e01 Death in the Slow Lane, Reminiscing, Whatever happened to Dan Scott?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quipxotic/pseuds/Quipxotic
Summary: Ben Jones was adjusting to working with his new DCI when a call from a former co-worker takes him on a trip down memory lane.
Relationships: Ben Jones and Gail Stephens, John Barnaby & Ben Jones, Tom Barnaby & Ben Jones
Series: Family Matters [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945675
Kudos: 9





	1. Catching Up

“Hi Sarge!”

Ben Jones froze mid-stride, nearly tripping over his own feet. “Gail!” He grinned at the sound of her voice on the phone, befor narrowing his eyes as he remembered. “You traitor.”

She laughed, low and smug. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Well, let me remind you.” He resumed walking to his car. “Not only did you abandon me right after the boss retired-“

“Abandoned you? What are you, a baby in a basket?“

He continued, ignoring her. “Not only that, but you left me to deal with his replacement all on my own just when I needed you the most. What do you have to say for yourself, DS Stephens?”

“That bad,” she asked, a note of sympathy in her voice. “But wait, I thought you had Tom Barnaby’s cousin-“

“Yeah.” Unlocking the car door, Ben made a disgruntled noise as he flopped into the driver’s seat. “John Barnaby.”

“But you met him before, right? During that last case with Mayor Hicks?”

“Briefly, but that’s not the same as having to work for the man.”

“Sure, but he seemed okay to me. What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s,” Ben struggled to find the right words, “weird.”

“Weird or different,” Gail asked knowingly. 

“He has a Psychology degree.”

“You say that like it explains everything.” 

“He’s constantly trying to get into people’s heads. Tom Barnaby taught us the value of good, solid police work, not whatever this is.” 

“Oh dear,” Gail chuckled. “So he’s trying to drag you kicking and screaming into the modern age. No wonder you’re not getting on.”

“I didn’t say that! And modern age? You know I’m younger than him, right?”

“Only in body, Ben, “ she teased. “We both know you’re an old man at heart.”

He made another face. “Did you call just to insult me, Stephens?”

She laughed again. “No. Looks like I’m going to be in Causton tomorrow. I wondered if you wanted to get a drink after work? Catch up a bit?”

“What, and get more of this kind of abuse?” He grinned suddenly, letting go of the aggrieved act. “Sure. Text me the time and place and I’ll be there.” 

“Good. See you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another ficlet that's been lingering in my drafts for weeks. I'm not planning on expanding it further, so I might as well post it.


	2. 24 Hours Later

Ben hurried into the restaurant and gave a short nod to the woman at the front desk. “Hello, I’m looking for-“

“Ben!”

He looked through the open double doors leading out onto a patio, catching a glimpse of Gail waving at him from a far table. “Never mind, found her.” Grinning, he weaved his way through the moderately crowded dining room and stepped outside. “Really subtle, Stephens. Sorry I’m late.”

“No problem, I expected it.” She grinned back, standing up to give him a hug and kiss on the cheek. “Remember this place?”

“The lunch that never was,” he replied ruefully, sitting across from her, “because Tom called us right as the food arrived when he was supposed to be safely occupied in Brighton.”

“Our talking about that Hicks business brought it to mind.”

“I’m glad. The salmon I ordered was really good, even as takeaway, and yet I never think to come here.” He studied her intently. “You look good. How are you really?”

“I’m fine.” Gail looked him up and down, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly. Leaning in, she said in an overly-dramatic, husky voice, “You look smashing, Ben Jones.”

Ben snorted. There had been a chance for something between them when they’d first worked together, but they both knew that ship had sailed a long time ago. “So are you going to tell me what case you’re working on that falls within our jurisdiction or do I have to guess? Oh come on,” he said at her surprised expression, “think about who you’re talking to. Did you expect me not to guess?”

“I suppose not.” She waved her hand. “It’s nothing really, just someone I needed to interview.”

“An interview you couldn’t conduct over the phone?” Ben raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.”

“I wanted to have a look at her and her house.” They were interrupted by a waitress coming by for their drinks order. After she left, Ben stared at Gail with an expectant look until she finally yielded. “Okay, fine. Some of the powers that be thought a woman couldn’t have committed the crime we’re investigating-“

“Which is?”

“Murder by strangulation, but the victim was in a fight before his death.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I disagreed and wanted to take a closer look. I mean, it’s not like women can’t hold their own when properly motivated and trained.”

“I know. I remember you restraining quite a few would-be brawlers during cases.” Ben pursed his lips. “Your boss know you’re here?”

“Yeah, Amelia’s fine with it. But further up the food chain-“

“Gail,” he hissed, looking worried. 

“Don’t ‘Gail’ me.” She waggled a butter knife at him. “It’s not like you and Tom never went against orders from the top, am I right?”

“Of course. Just,” he rubbed a hand over his face, a nervous tick he usually had under control, “be careful. And call me if I can help.”

“So I can get you in trouble with your new boss? No way,” she held up a hand to stop his protests, “but I appreciate the offer. Besides, the person I interviewed had a solid alibi, so it’ll probably come to nothing anyway.”

“You’re not going to tell me who it is?” She shook her head as their drinks arrived. “Which means I know them.”

“You know everyone.” 

“So I’ll figure it out.”

She glared at him. “Don’t you have a case of your own to keep you occupied? I saw something in the news - a local DJ killed?”

Ben shook his head. “All wrapped up now except for the paperwork. Stop trying to change the subject.” 

“Fine, I’ll make you a deal: if this person isn’t involved, I’ll call you in a few weeks so you can laugh at me.”

“Assuming I haven’t figured it out before then-“

“You are so annoying.”

He grinned cheekily at her. “Guilty as charged. And if they are involved?”

“I imagine you’ll hear about it through official channels when we consult with you and your DCI on the case.”

“Fair enough.” They placed their food orders and the conversation lulled for moment. Ben watched the ducks swimming lazily in the nearby pond. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly, some of the tension in his shoulders leaving with it. 

Gail smiled. “Have you spoken to Tom?”

“Not since he and Joyce moved.” He sipped his drink. “But I know they’re traveling, I got a postcard from Venice. Cully says he’s driving her mum nuts, complains non-stop when she tries to convince him to see the sights. All he wants to do is sit drinking coffee, doing crosswords, and reading.”

“So nothing much has changed there.” 

Ben chuckled. “No.” His focus drifted back to the ducks and he frowned, seeming far away.

Gail watched him. “You’re overthinking. I can practically hear the wheels spinning.”

“Tom…he told John Barnaby I was ‘the right stuff.’”

“High praise from Tom,” Gail held her glass up in a toast, “but completely deserved.”

He clinked his glass against hers. “Thanks.”

“But you’re still not happy.”

Ben hunched his shoulders and lowered his voice. “I just thought, you know, with Tom moving on…that I’d take over.“

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not how it works, Ben, you know that. You’re not a Detective Inspector yet. Have you even passed the exam?”

“Alright, alright.” He blushed, looking around to see if anyone had overheard them. “And for the record, I’ve not taken it yet.”

“All the more reason. I know your career has been somewhat…unconventional.” 

Ben frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“You were still in uniform when Tom Barnaby brought you into CID, right? Made you an acting-DC and his right hand man despite already having a DS at the time.” She waved a hand vaguely. “What was his name?”

Ben closed his eyes, trying to remember. “Scott. Dan Scott.”

“That’s the one. Before my time, but you must’ve known him.”

“Only to say hello to, it’s not like we hung out.”

“I always wondered, how did he react to you taking his place? I’d have thought he’d be livid.”

“If he was he never said anything to me." Ben paused. "Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever saw him again once I transferred to CID.”

“A bit weird, isn’t it?”

Ben shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe? Tom said Scott called in sick when we started working that first case. I just assumed he was out on medical leave or something. And anyway, he was from London and made no secret of the fact he thought Midsomer was the middle of nowhere. When he left, I assumed he’d transferred back home.”

Their food arrived, forcing both to lean back. Once the server was gone, Gail leaned forward again. “That’s a lot of assuming for a police officer. Didn’t they throw a party for him or something?”

“Nope.” Ben began tucking into his salmon. “He was just gone.”

“Could’ve been a personnel matter.”

Ben shook his head. “Nah, that sort of thing is prime gossip material. It’d be all over the place simply because no one was supposed to know about it. ‘Course we were really busy that first six months so maybe there was talk and I didn’t notice? Anyway, what does Scott have to do with anything?”

“He doesn’t. My point is your move into CID wasn’t typical. You clearly caught Tom’s eye and impressed him early on.”

“Yeah, by working my arse off.”

“How long did it take you to reach DS?”

He thought about it. “About a year after I transferred to CID, maybe a bit less.”

“Most people take two years at least.”

“I was a PC for something like twelve years, so it was hardly a meteoric rise. In fact, some might say it was about damn time.”

“My point is, you’ve had a couple of one in a million shots. You can’t expect your whole career to work like that.”

“Who said I did,” Ben asked, mildly affronted. 

“You did,” she replied seriously, “wanting to be in charge without even taking the Inspector’s exam.”

“Okay, I surrender,” Ben said, holding up his hands. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” That settled, she began eating her meal. “Give it a year or two and you’ll probably make DI, no problem. You just have to be patient.” 

“And survive the new DCI Barnaby,” he added. 

“He can’t be that bad.”

“He talks about cases to his dog.” When she laughed, he put down his fork. “No really, full conversations like he’s speaking to another person.”

“Does the dog talk back?”

“Not that I’ve heard, but Barnaby sure acts like he does. It’s certifiable.” 

“Still doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

“He treats me like I’m a kid! Said my brains were in my trousers.”

Gail snorted, almost choking on her drink. “He actually said that?”

“Hand to God.” He shrugged. “‘Course, he was pretty smooth with the suspects. Found a bunch of kids who’d filmed everything going on at their school for a class project, including one of the former graduates and her daughter running a drug smuggling ring." He shook his head. "That was one hell of an interview.”

“I bet.”

“And," Ben continued grudgingly, "he spotted a lot of details I missed."

Gail’s eyes twinkled. “So I guess he has some redeeming qualities, huh? And if he’s passing along Tom’s praises, he must be putting some effort into building bridges.”

“Maybe.” A mischievous smirk crossed his face and Ben picked up his fork again. “We have recently come to an understanding about one or two things.” 

Gail waited for him to explain and when he didn’t she prompted him. “Well, what kind of things?”

He smiled mysteriously and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

Ben winked. “One good turn deserves another.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, have it your way.” Gail held up her glass. “To new beginnings.”

“New beginnings,” Ben repeated, holding his up as well, “and to old friends, wherever life takes them.” They clinked glasses again and settled in for a long, pleasant evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been months since I was able to go out to eat with friends, so writing this was both oddly melancholy and a bit of wish fulfillment.


End file.
